


Ain't Nothing Like It

by marshv



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Kink, Flirting, Licking, M/M, Mild Blood, Waiting Rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv
Summary: That junker guy is pretty weird but Jesse has never been one to judge.





	Ain't Nothing Like It

**Author's Note:**

> I don't plan on posting everything here but highboom is dangerously underrated and I'd like to help fill the tag. I debated on what rating to give this since there aren't any dicks.
> 
> As always, you can send requests to [my tumblr](http://junkrathell.tumblr.com)

They both sat in Angela’s waiting room. Right next to each other despite the abundance of chairs, just the two of them. Jamison was grinning, eyeing McCree like a piece of meat and biting his bottom lip. Short giggles continually interrupted the silence, breaking through the edge of his goofy grin.

The seat creaked from the way his gangly body rocked to the side. He had slid up against the man next to him and McCree welcomed the change, watching the endearing way the other closed in.

“Ya got blood on ya, mate,” he finally said.

McCree took a quick glance down and studied the cut on his hand. It wasn’t exceptionally deep or painful, but it was severe enough to warrant a visit as far as Angela was concerned. There was also a steady trickle of blood that seeped from the surface, and Junkrat was staring at it with obvious intensity.

“I certainly do,” Jesse agreed, fixing the kid with a lazy smile. “And what brings you here, sugar?”

The resulting squeal of laughter filled him with a sense of pride.

“Ain’t anythin’ serious,” Jamison’s giggles slowed and he waved it off, leaning into him fully now and licking his lips. “Doc said I needed a check-up, that’s all. Nice gettin’ to see you here, though. Real nice.”

“That so?” Jesse drawled, noticing the way his eyes roamed. “You’re doing an awful lot of staring, there. Anything you wanna say?”

“Lotsa things, darl. But I’m not about t’scare you off when I finally got ya close like this. Lemme see your hand, yeah?”

Before McCree really knew what he was asking, Junkrat had taken a hold of his injured hand. He was cradling it near his face, eyes big, like he was watching an explosion bring down a city block. His scrappy mechanical hand kept a light grip on his wrist, while his other one trailed light, gentle touches over the back of his palm, right by the cut. His fingers swirled around it like it was something delicate and rare. Shoulders twitching, his breath shaking through his body, the smile on his face had become tight and excessive.

“You alright there, darlin’?” Jesse chuckled, bewildered by his actions. He watched him raise his injured hand up parallel to his face, pointed nose and open mouth dangerously close to the trickling line of blood. He could feel puffs of air stinging as it blew over the tender skin. It was fascinating how enamored Junkrat seemed to be by such a negligible amount of blood—relatively speaking, considering their line of work

“Oh, I’m just spiffy, love.” Jamison answered him in a whisper, his voice low. “Always love seein’ blood on ya. Doesn’t matter how much. Makes ya look like such a nasty bloke. Drives me wild.”

The purr McCree made was outside his control. The sound of Jamison’s voice vibrated through his body, shaking him, and he relished in the smooth, deep tone of it.

The other’s eyes had become half lidded, bony fingers still massaging the meat of his palm. Then, right where the skin was split the most, he kissed it. And Jesse felt the distinctively soft pressure of a pair of lips.

“Gonna kiss it better for me, darlin’?” he teased. It was intoxicating. His cheeks were hot, the whole room was, and he struggled to relax as he let Junkrat move his lips around, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. It was difficult to sit still. He heard the kid moaning in the base of his chest, and his eyes slipping shut completely as he lost himself.

It was when he noticed the wetness of Junkrat’s tongue lapping at the blood that McCree finally realized just how into this they both were. A pleasant sting, warm kisses enveloped the entirety of his hand. It was hot, and the enthusiasm Jamison had was a turn on in its own right. McCree curled his fingers to caress the side of his cheek, right near his mouth. He couldn’t reach far with how his wrist was pinned, but he felt Jamison’s lips pull into a smile as he kissed his hand, sharp presses of teeth poking menacingly at his wound.

“Y’ taste so sweet,” he mumbled into his palm, breathless from the lack of air. He pulled back a few inches to lick his lips and scan over Jesse’s face. “You’re a real pretty one. Just knew you’d taste as good as ya look.”

McCree coughed, clearing his throat.

“Well I’m mighty glad I could meet your expectations.” The redness of his cheeks felt so hot, he was positive Junkrat could see. “But I reckon you’re the real sweet one here. Can’t stop looking at that pretty smile of yours.”

The groan he got in response sent a shiver down his spine. With a twinge of lust, he noticed a smear of blood staining the other’s lips.

“Ya wanna get fucked, mate? That’s what you’re gonna get if ya say things like that.”

All McCree could do was shrug, not minding the idea one bit.

“That’d be fine by me.”

The sultry look on Junkrat’s face vanished and he loosened his hold on McCree’s wrist. His eyes widened, shocked and surprised and pleased beyond all belief.

“Yeah?” he looked hopeful.

And McCree simply winked at him.


End file.
